Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Stargazing at Woolgatherers
Another pressed curd product... neither blessed nor cursed adduct... preparing the muscle of thinking for its limbering up exercising whilst all else rests... rest assured best that the kine’s solid and aged opalescence be what motivates that course for which sweetness derives from the basis of the most savoury delectation... savouring each moment yet with all doubt and chance that it will be forgotten... awakening with the memory of some thing such a thing that cannot be true which hasn’t occurred yet which makes an utterance of reality cry true... what is seen is quickly forgotten and is seen not again then it is not believed any more... seeing is believing yet my eyelids were closed fully shut which can be only seeing the back of them with no light though nothing can be seen... darkness but free to run reckless abandon wherever I may dream of with no fear of colliding into a wall which may well happen depending on which type I had consumed... no need for hallucinogens with the existences which have compounded even my wildest dreams of which I cannot tell you since after all all was forgotten along with the most mundane ones... so the memory is left only of the reality which each darkness allows me to flee from only to be recaptured if it can be said of that which had never roamed outside of its laid down boundaries... constructed before my knowledge and limiting before my presence and yielding its own want from our covetous minds... can those things which I cannot bring to mind not now maybe never I dare say definitely have been stolen... I object not to much else and could be stripped of the memory of eating cheese most likely one of a blue variety in place of my pangs which cannot be imagined for me outside of the space created outside of those bounds... when I am limitless I am no longer flightless of course I admit it is no heaven but my mind is only cooked up of the stems around which it was reared and is preserved if we can say that there are any of them worth this effort today... I envy the sleep of others when it is the middle of the day here and on the downside or the beneath some such terminology which doesn’t suit for a cosmos which has no top or bottom left or right inside or outside edges or memories or hope or despair for there where I mean there here they are resting and dreaming and I not... now that its been mentioned it must be said that perhaps those people deserve what they get when they awaken and its my turn but what of the universe that never sleeps yet doesn’t it face its own reality.. far too unearthly a context yet without this intention what can I say I am envious to an extent for without dreams and a fancy to escape I would gladly accept the reckoning of the stars to be mine without the mind and the thoughts to continue speculating on such trivial and useless absurdity whilst I’m awake... is it any wonder?